


Teenage Dream

by babywarg (morphaileffect)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Backstory, Fluff, Insecure Stephen Strange, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/pseuds/babywarg
Summary: An almost-road accident helps Stephen realize that he acts strangely around Tony, and Tony acts the same around him.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 10
Kudos: 145
Collections: MCU_Fluff2020





	Teenage Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what song inspired this? That's right! [This one~!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70j133q1Inw)

Tony really hoped the almost-accident hadn’t ruined their evening.

After all, it had been a _magnificent_ evening. There had been dinner, a small amount of wine, pleasant banter, a game of footsie under the restaurant table, laughter while walking, talking under the stars, and finally a relaxing drive home -

Until that drunk driver almost smashed his car into theirs.

They made sure no one in the other car was hurt, and made sure the young driver responsible was taken to the authorities, to drastically reduce the odds of him making the same mistake again.

But afterwards, Stephen looked shaken. Stephen stayed silent while Tony ranted for a good minute about “kids these days.”

The rest of the drive back to Stephen's domicile was tense.

And as he was walking Stephen up to the steps of the Sanctum, Tony noticed the thoughtful look, the shadow over Stephen’s face.

“Something bothering you, sweetcheeks?” _Sweetcheek_ bones, Tony should have said instead, because _look_ at those gorgeous things...

“It’s nothing,” Stephen mumbled. He still bravely attempted a smile at Tony, but it fell flat.

“I’m,” Tony attempted, “sorry about what happened earlier. On the road. I know that with what happened to your hands, you must be...”

“It’s not,” Stephen started to say. But he stopped himself. “...Forget it. Good night, Tony.”

Tony reached for his hand, held it lightly.

“Listen,” he said, looking down for a second, “I had a great night. I don’t want to end it like this. So I hope you’ll tell me what’s wrong.” He glanced past Stephen’s shoulder, to the Sanctum’s front door. “You can invite me inside, if that makes talking easier. I promise we’ll just talk. Or you can come home with me! If you don’t want me driving anymore, we can call an Uber and - ”

“Tony,” Stephen interrupted, gripping his hand.

That grip was reassuring. Even if the hand holding Tony’s was cold and slightly shaking. It didn’t let go. That was what mattered.

“I’m upset because,” Stephen said after a soft, annoyed sigh, “I didn’t use my magic when the car almost hit us. Didn’t even think of it.”

Tony frowned. “I don’t...get it?” he remarked.

“I can’t explain it very well, either,” Stephen admitted, “but I had a good time tonight, too. I don’t want you to doubt that. It’s just...it might have been a little _too_ good.”

Stephen gently released his hand and Tony stepped back. He was determined to ignore that he said “great” while Stephen said “good” to describe their evening. That was nitpicking. Mountains out of molehills.

Stephen sat on the topmost step. Tony tentatively sat beside him, and was relieved to find nothing in Stephen’s body language indicating that he wanted to be left alone.

Tony wasn’t ready for the night to end, even if it wasn’t going to end as pleasantly as it began. He wanted to be here, to help sort this out.

Or to sit silently by his date. He was good, either way.

“With you,” Stephen said after a minute of silence and looking for the right words, “I forget I can use magic. That I’ll ever _need_ to. And it feels...amazing. Like this was always meant to happen. Like everything’s okay.”

Nice words, ones that would normally make Tony feel good...

But why was Stephen so _sad_ while saying them?

“And that’s a bad thing to get used to,” Stephen finished quietly, “for someone in my position.”

Tony knew what Stephen meant. Of course he did.

He chose to make light of it anyway.

“Wow,” Tony snorted. “Didn’t realize I was talking to the guy who’s got the safety of the free world on his shoulders. The only superhero in New York.”

Stephen smirked. Tony didn’t need to look at him to know that he did.

“The only one who’s thinking straight, it seems,” he quipped. “Only one with the sense to be worried.”

“Sorry, I actually don’t have the luxury of time to be worried,” Tony answered. “I’m busy enjoying my time with you. Look, tomorrow a giant rock could fall on Earth and we’d all be dead. At least I was able to spend some of my last hours with someone who made me happy.”

After a short pause, Stephen asked: “...I make you happy?”

The tentativeness of that question was so sincere, so adorable, Tony had to melt a little inside.

He inched just a little bit closer to Stephen.

“Sure you do,” he reassured the man. “Hate to think I was just on a third date with someone who doesn’t.”

This seemed to help. The worry fell a bit from Stephen’s face.

Saying sweet things worked - that was noted. Tony was keeping a mental tally of everything that brought Stephen’s defenses down. So far he had come up with two essentials: 1) pushing his buttons by arguing with him in public, and 2) massaging his ego in private.

“So is that how I really make you feel,” Tony ventured, “forgetful?”

“No,” Stephen said quickly. “ _Young_. You make me feel young.”

Oh. Well...

Tony wasn’t quite prepared for the warm fuzzy feels he got from that answer.

Stephen, when off his guard, tended to put Tony off his guard, as well.

Also noted.

“I’m going to tell you something,” Stephen continued. “And you have to promise not to laugh, or in the morning, you’re waking up in bed with a family of leeches.”

“As long as it’s a _family_ of leeches,” he joked. Stephen glared at him, and he rolled his eyes. “Okay. I promise.”

For a moment, Stephen hesitated. It looked like he was still deciding if it was a bad idea or not to open up.

Eventually, however, he did open up. Perhaps he got the sense that Tony wasn’t going anywhere until he did.

“I never dated in school,” he began. “That high school experience everyone talks about - first prom, first kiss, first hickey, all that - never went through any of it. Sure, I had crushes, but a social life wasn’t my priority. I had a goal, and that goal was to get out of school as soon as possible, then work as a highly paid medical specialist. Everything else was...a distraction.

“I thought of people who took their eyes off the prize and surrendered to their feelings as weak. And people who relied on others to feel good - bags of hormones and blood, the lot of them. It was just in medical school that I decided to experiment sexually, and when I did...it was all clinical. Technical. A way to figure out how other people’s bodies and mine worked. Feelings were just not part of the equation.”

“You mean,” Tony interjected, mischief in his voice already, “you were a virgin until your twenties?”

Stephen scowled. “ _Early_ twenties.”

“Not judging.” Tony threw his hands up briefly. “Really wouldn’t have figured you for a late bloomer, considering your...skills.”

Stephen grunted. “Extensive practice helped me fine-tune my ‘skills’ based on my partners’ preferences. I can read your body language. _And_ your mind.”

Tony grimaced. “Maybe _don’t_ remind me of that? Kind of kills the mood a bit...”

“I only do it to find out what you like at critical junctures,” Stephen parried. “The last thing I’d want you to do is curse me for a novice.”

Tony guffawed.

“ ‘Curse me for a novice!’ “ he laughed aloud. A few passers-by glanced up at them, but decided they weren’t worth a second look. “That’s good! You should trademark that.”

Tony’s mirth was infectious, and Stephen’s guard slipped just a little further. Tony could see it in the way his body relaxed.

“It’s something completely new, being with you,” Stephen said, studying Tony’s face. “I feel like I’m playing catch-up. Like I’m leaving everything my body learned behind, and going back in time. Going through everything I should’ve, but didn’t. Everything I missed. And I feel...awkward, in a way...”

“Like a teenager?”

An amused smile touched Stephen’s face.

“Exactly like a teenager,” he replied, “asshat.”

Tony wanted to throw his arms around this man and tell him everything was going to be okay.

But he also wanted to say one very important thing:

“Can I tell you something too, and you’ll promise not to laugh?”

Stephen’s lovely glasz eyes narrowed. “That depends.”

Tony’s dark chocolate eyes also narrowed, in response. “I can’t call up any leeches, but I can put viruses in your cell that’ll bog it down like a really old iPhone.”

“All right,” Stephen chuckled. “I promise. What is it?”

“I never dated in school, either.” Tony planted his hands on the concrete behind him, leaned back on them. “When I was a kid, in boarding school, I buried my nose in books. I discovered the wonders of engineering, specialized early, then graduated from MIT at age 16. Poured myself into inventing stuff as soon as I was able.

“You say everything else was a distraction, when you were growing up? For me, _science_ was the distraction. From life. From everything that hurt. It was only when my parents...when my dad died, that I felt it was all right to explore the world outside my head. I felt free. I _was_ free. And when I realized that, that was when I _really_ went wild.”

Tony caught the snide expression on Stephen’s face, and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I was a virgin until my twenties, too. _Early_ twenties. A girl on each arm, parties every night - that was the public image, right? It was the private image, too, sometimes. But only when it was convenient. I didn’t really take any of my flings seriously - it’s hard to, when feelings aren’t involved.”

“And Miss Potts...?”

A bold question. It wasn’t their first time discussing Pepper and her impact on Tony’s life...

But Tony had already decided they would talk about her as many times as they needed to.

“Miss Potts,” he said carefully, “was my first non-fling. If you’ll believe it. My first serious relationship. And you almost always muck up your first. Already knew that when we agreed to break it off, but it was still a hard lesson to review.”

He fell silent, and Stephen fell silent in sympathy.

It was up to Tony to break the silence again. He leaned forward to catch another glimpse of Stephen’s face.

“Don’t tell me,” he teased, “ _I’m_ your first?”

“Shut up,” Stephen laughed. “Don't be crass.”

" _You're_ crass," Tony shot back, lightly bumping Stephen's shoulder with the side of his fist.

The play-punching escalated, until they were holding on to each other's arms to keep from collapsing in laughter. They laughed and laughed.

Any residual anxiety from the almost-accident earlier that evening was gone. Completely. And Tony was grateful.

“Look at us,” he muttered, as the laughter died down. “We’re in our fifties - “

“Forties.”

Tony stared at his date.

“God _damn_ ,” Tony breathed out slowly. “What am I, a cradle-snatcher now?”

Stephen's eyebrow rose.

“Okay, we’re _older_ ,” Tony corrected, “and we’re just now knowing how it feels.”

“How what feels?”

Tony hooked his arm around his date, snuggled closer to him.

“This.”

It always amazed Tony, how _warm_ being around Stephen felt.

He might be Stephen's first...but Tony was sure, in his gut, that he was going to do everything in his power to make this work. 

Stephen smiled, planted a kiss on Tony’s hair.

“Clearly, age doesn’t do us any favors,” he pointed out. “We’re both acting like children.”

Tony laid a hand on Stephen’s knee.

When there was no resistance after a few seconds, he moved his hand just a little up Stephen’s thigh.

Began nuzzling Stephen’s neck.

“Does that mean we get to make out, like disgusting little bags of hormones and blood?” he whispered suggestively.

Stephen chuckled, opened his knees just a little wider.

“Maybe,” Stephen whispered back, “as long as I’m back in my room before my folks find out I’m gone.”


End file.
